I want my Mama!

I was thinking today about the fact that Sophia's third birthday is only a week away and that of course made me think about the day Sophia was born.

We were, of course, living in Fort Wayne at the time and I was definitely trying to put on a brave, I can totally have this baby away from my family, face. Everything with Sophia was different. It was the first time I had been able to carry a pregnancy past the first trimester after Connor and after finding out that I had Factor V Leiden and Methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase (MTHFR). I had given myself shots every day since about six weeks along, and had seen my doctor at least once a month the whole time. I was nervous, because of the blood thinning shots I took during pregnancy, I was going to have to be induced for the first time and had heard horror stories of induction and how terrible it makes everything. But, I trusted my doctor completely and felt sure that between he and Ben, I had the support I needed.  

A week or so before I was scheduled to be induced, my perinatologist went on "emergency family medical leave." Side note: I'm still not sure exactly what this means. So here I was, a week out from having a baby, my beloved doctor gone for the next six plus weeks, and I wanted what any thirty year old girl wants...her mom. I met the doctor who was going to fill in for him and we scheduled my induction for a Saturday morning. I put on my brave face and repeatedly told my mom that I was going to be fine. That I could do this. That I was a grown up. And, that I didn't need her to come to Fort Wayne. 

Like the good mother she is, my mom didn't believe a word of this nonsense. Still, you can imagine my surprise (since I had been quite adamant that I could do this without her) when she and my sister, Michelle walked into the hospital room as I was lying there waiting for Sophia to decide that being born might just be worth the trouble of it all. My surprise was compounded by the fact that I had talked to my mom, on her HOME phone number, a bunch the night before and even that same morning. It turns out if you are fancy, like Michelle, you can forward your home phone to ring to a cell phone and get that call no matter where you are. Tricky, huh?

I think it took me a good twenty minutes for my brain to register that my mom was indeed standing in the hospital room. I was just that surprised. And I was so happy. Suddenly it felt like everything was going to be okay. Most of all I was just so relieved that now, no matter how long this deliver took, Connor had someone to look after him and I didn't have to worry about putting someone out. You're allowed to put your parents out by making them watch your kids because they kind of like your kids. 

It turns out that moms know stuff about junk, because Sophia's delivery was terrible and then we were told that she may have dwarfism (for those of you who have seen Sophia...ever...feel free to chuckle here, I do...frequently). All of these things were made easier by the fact that my mom and sister were there. My mom knew that I would need her and she came. 

It's what moms do.

Cracker Barrel Goodness

I've craved many things throughout the course of this pregnancy, but Cracker Barrel is consistently one of them. I've gone there roughly twice in my twenty weeks of pregnancy and both times I got the same exact thing: grilled chicken, mashed potatoes with country gravy, and corn.

You know how sometimes you imagine something being wonderful and amazing and then when you finally get to have that thing it just doesn't live up to expectations?

I can honestly say that both times that I've gone to Cracker Barrel I have imagined that the food was going to be incredible. That I was going to eat every last bite and that I was going to leave there happy. And, both times it lived up to my expectations. Exactly. Both times it was as amazingly delicious as I thought it would be. And, both times I left thinking "I could eat there again tomorrow."

I could go eat there right now and I already had dinner.

I think it is probably a good thing that the nearest Cracker Barrel is over 35 minutes away. Our budget is not built to withstand these kinds of cravings.

Oh yeah...and the lemonade. Don't forget the lemonade in that frosty little glass. Delicious.

Girl Elevators.

Contrary to popular opinion in Indiana, Kansas is part of the Midwest. I know this because of the following:

1. Kansas is actually west of the Mississippi. 
2. We like to eat our chili with cinnamon rolls.
3. You don't have to drive too far before you see a grain elevator. 

I'm pretty sure that it has been scientifically proven that these are the requirements for saying you live in the Midwest. And I know that you are all sick of me waxing eloquent on the virtue of chili and cinnamon rolls. 

Therefore, my focus for today is on grain elevators. They aren't much to look at, but I like them. I think that is because I grew up within a few miles of one...this one to be precise. 

As a native Kansan, it warmed my heart when we were driving in town today and Sophia pointed one out to me. The conversation went something like this. 

Sophia: Mom! An elevator! An elevator!

Me: You're right. That is a grain elevator.

Sophia: Yeah. It's for girls to ride in. 

Me: Girls? No, it is a grain elevator, not a girl elevator. 

Sophia: Yeah, but girls ride in it. 

Me: No, it is for grain...like for bread. 

Sophia: Bread? You so funny mom. Bread doesn't ride in an elevator. Girls do. And babies, but only if they are in the stroller. 

Well...at least she thinks it is perfectly normal to eat chili with cinnamon rolls. 

Of Mom Awesomeness and Bath time.

You know those moments when you feel like for just a few seconds in time you were an awesome mom? This doesn't happen very often for me....mostly I feel like a really super okay mom. But occasionally, I have a moment of Mom awesomeness. A moment where I feel like I own this whole being a mom thing. Fortunately, the real world is there to kick me in the teeth before I get too full of myself, but these moments do exist.

Last night during bath time I had one of those moments. I put the girls in the tub, got them the appropriate number of bath toys (at my house this is roughly fifty million), washed their hair, and then proceeded to sweep, mop, Lysol, dump trash, and clean the entire bathroom while they happily enjoyed their playtime.

I even was so productive during that fifteen minutes that I was able to snap some pictures of my little girls splashing around.

Not to worry. This moment of Mom Awesomeness lasted just as long as bath time. After which both of the girls threw fits while getting their pajamas put on, screamed while getting their hair brushed, and sulked as they were put to bed. We were obviously back to our normal scheduled programming.

Roommates

When we got back from Fort Wayne we had a massive cleaning party. The type where I do all the jobs I've been putting off for way too long. Everyone got new bedding, bedrooms floors were found, closets were cleaned out, clothes were hung up, and socks missing their mates were sent packing. 

In the midst of this frenzy Ben and I had the same exact thought at nearly the same moment. I don't know if this happens in any one else's marriage, but it happens in our's frequently. I realized while cleaning Sophia's room that we had all just spend a week living in the same room. I started to think about making Elinor and Sophia share a room. 

As we were cleaning out around Elinor's crib, Ben looked at me and said "Would we be crazy if we moved Elinor into Sophia's room?" After telling him that I was just thinking the same thing earlier that day, we decided to bite the bullet and do it. Besides, we need to make some room in our space for the newest Ockree addition before this summer. 

The first few nights were a bit rough. Elinor still wakes up usually at least once a night and sometimes, like when she is teething (like right now), she wakes up several times. Elinor would wake up and cry, then Sophia would wake up and complain that Elinor was waking her up, and then Connor would wake up and wonder what all the "sister drama" was about. 

But everyone told me that it would be fine and that she would sleep right through the crying. And...it turns out that everyone was right. After just a few nights of crying, I went in to take care of little one to find that her sister was passed out. She did not even notice the crying. At. All. 

Here is to new roommates and successful room sharing!